Post

Aerlanica wrote:

Welcome to the cape of good hope! That is a most impressive contraption you have there.

Now, it’s time for RP.

"Hey Margaret." Wilson said discretely, nudging her.
"Huh?" she replied, once again touching the necklace absent mindedly.
"See that bridge over there," Wilson said, pointing to a nearby coffee shop with an outdoor seating area and walking over to it, "the one with all the military police.”
"Hang on."
They sat down at the cafe, with Margaret sitting looking towards the bridge. She stole a quick glance gave a discrete thumbs-up, easily mistaken for her wiping sleep from her eyes.
"Seems kind of important, don't you think?" He continued
Margaret nodded. They had to pause their conversation as a waitress, dressed in the traditional garb of Azulakas, moved to take their orders.
"Why would they have guards guarding the bridge?" Margaret asked, her hand moving absentmindedly to the necklace as she raked her head for ideas.
“Well there wouldn’t be guards guarding the bridge if there wasn’t anything to find,” Wilson said with a childish grin.
Margaret let out a small laugh. Not because the comment was funny, but because they needed to remain concealed in plain sight.
“We’ll tell John about the bridge, and make a plan.”

“Mr Prime Minister,” the soldier piped up, holding out a radio phone, “There are some Revolyutsian’s arriving in some planes, they claim they want to help, what should we do?"
Jonathan, after a long pause and with a monotone voice of shock and grief, replied.
"Allow them to land, direct them to Fox's Bluff; they're needed most there."
Jonathan walked away and into the city square, horrified. A sick feeling in his stomach grew with every step he took, and his eyes desperately wanted to look away as he grew closer. He never wanted to see that sight again, never wanted to hear those cries again.
He left the army to never hear the cries of "Gas!" breaking the silent air again, to see the aftermath of it again.
And yet, because of fates sick sense of twisted humour, here he was again.
Looking out at one of many pile of bodies; many of them politicians.
But because of the wind the gas drifted further south.
And so there were not just politicians.
There were children, normal men and women. there were doctors, police men, some soldiers along with a wide slew of other trades and occupations. he managed to spy a pregnant mother collapsed near the top of the pile, and a new born infant still clutched in the arms of a father.
He peeled his eyes away as he looked at the make-shift field hospital, set up because the normal hospitals were either full or contaminated, filled with cries and gurgles of pain, as many more Aerlanicans slowly felt their lungs being dissolved from the inside by the gas, only to die and be added to one of the many piles.
"What is the death toll?" He asked a nearby soldier.
despite wearing a gas mask, Jonathan knew the sad look he held as he said the answer.
"It's nearing a few thousand in Aerlanica City alone, sir," he said, "we think, overall, it could be up to fifteen thousand dead."
Jonathan nodded, and continued walking through the tent hospital that sprung up in Hope Square. With his newfound psionic abilities, he reached into the minds of those around him and felt their emotions of pain, of fear, of confusion, of horror. He heard their thoughts; wondering whether or not a relative survived, wondering if this is the end, wondering who attacked them. Jonathan withdrew before the emotions could overwhelm him. But a fact still rested heavily on his shoulders.

Fifteen thousand dead.

A nationwide, coordinated strike with chemical weapons.

The whole thing reeked of the NAP.

He wandered past a tent as a few of the last remaining doctors carried out a dead body; a girl, no more than fifteen dressed for an occasion, most likely a date she would never see.
So many lives, Jonathan thought to himself, Unfinished lives filled with dreams, with futures, with descendants and with memories. Cut down like unripened grain.
Jonathan looked around at the hospital surrounding him. Jonathan was often told he was slow to anger, and that it would take a large deal of effort to make him furious.
But Jonathan didn't believe that was true, because he at this very moment was overwhelmed with grief, with anguish, and with undeniable, raw, primal rage.
He was going to make the NAP pay. He offered peace time and time again and they threw it away, only to attack every city with a gas attack, murdering his people.
No more.
The NAP had ran out his patience and his mercy. Now there will only be blood and fury.
They will pay in their blood Jonathan said, And I will show the world what we do to Fascists

(With this newfound aggression, the NAP terrorists will be defeated more rapidly)

[Out of RP] Oh, very interesting, it appears that there may be a Cold War arising here. Aerlanica may be crippled, but they will still either strive for peace or fight with fury.

Also Tyramon, the C.O.U.R.I.E.R. are still trying to interrogate the soldiers about Commander Lemin and the background to the whole Succession issue. Just a heads up.

And finally, This region is the best! Accepting to join is the best thing I ever have done in a while. Thanks guys for being awesome!

(P.S. I have an idea for a poll; does your country have a national/most common piece of clothing or attire?)